Coming Home
by Jenzy Shelton
Summary: After three years in L.A., Allison comes back...but she's not quite the same person she was when she left. Chapter 5 is up.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, not getting any money, just borrowing the snarky one, ducklings, Wilson and Cuddy. I'll return them before their next show, even if I'm not finished with this.

Author's Note: Okay, so, I'm having a bit of a problem with 'Bringing Up Baby'. Writer's block sucks ass. I'm taking a hint from my buddy Fen and working on another story. I don't know exactly how this is going to turn out, or what exactly it's going to entail. I just know that, hopefully, you'll all like it.

Three years could really change a place and a person. That's what Allison thought as she drove down the streets of Princeton, New Jersey. It felt like so much more time had passed than just three years. Some of her favorite restaurants were gone, replaced by new ones or new businesses. Even her old apartment complex was different. The outside of the building had changed colors, the parking lot was arranged differently, there was a shed for the cars to park under, even the landscaping was different.

Even the roads looked different, but she knew they were. She'd kept in touch with her friends from PPTH, Foreman, Chase, Wilson, even House, and to a small point, Cuddy. Not much had changed with any of them.

Wilson had married again. Just a month shy of a year, and it seemed like the fourth time was the charm. Allison had tried to get time off to go to the wedding, but she hadn't been able to. From what she'd heard from everyone else, Jessica was everything Wilson needed. She even got along with House as much as anyone could.

Foreman was married too. He and his bride, Melissa, were still on their honeymoon. He'd even left PPTH and gotten a job at another hospital where he'd become the head of the Neurology department.

Chase was in a relationship as well. He and his girlfriend, Alice, were even expecting a baby boy.

Cuddy finally got her baby just over a year ago. She'd adopted a little girl, Maya. From what Allison understood, Maya's mother was a junkie who'd come into the clinic for a pregnancy test. Then she'd set up an appointment to have an abortion. Cuddy had talked her out of it and taken care of everything so that she could adopt the baby when she was born.

And House…well, House was still House. He still walked with a cane, was still snarky, still ditched clinic duty and still made nurses cry. He had, though, gone through rehab one more time about a year ago. He'd undergone a procedure involving cool laser therapy. It hadn't given him back any lost thigh muscle, but it had taken 99 of his pain and lessened his scar. It had also lessened how much he used his cane. For what little pain he did have left, an over-the-counter pain reliever took care of it. Allison knew all of this because they'd gotten closer since she'd moved away.

It was odd how things changed. While she lived in Princeton and tried to get him to see that she loved him, they had nothing. Then when she moved to L.A. and decided to be just his friend, they got along great. Better than great, really.

Even Allison herself had changed. She'd gone to the west coast and had somehow morphed into a new person in very little time. She'd only been there two months when she'd started a whirlwind relationship with the head of the Oncology department at the new hospital. Before the end of the year she'd become Mrs. Dr. Kirk Jenson. She'd found him cheating on her not six months into the marriage and two years later they were still going through the divorce.

Thinking back to the previous year, some sort of conference in Vegas, Allison sighs. Wilson had been single at the time, and they were both drinking heavily while they caught up. His hand on her knee had turned into his hand massaging her thigh and her hand resting on his shoulder had turned into her hand gripping his neck in a fiery kiss. They'd both woken up hung over, but oddly satisfied. She'd told him not to worry about it, that she didn't regret it and he shouldn't either. To this day she didn't think he'd told House what had happened in Vegas that weekend.

After a few turns that take her down a few residential streets, she stops in front of a very good looking home. The front lawn is well manicured and has very green grass and a beautiful dogwood tree near the home itself.

"This is definitely not something I'd have expected for him," she says to herself as she pulls up into the driveway.

Just as she's getting out, she sees the garage starting to open up and smiles, then goes to hug the cane wielding man inside.

"The prodigal duckling returns!" he says, grinning as he hugs her, one hand resting on the small of her back, the other patting it. At that moment she letts herself dare to hope that coming back to Princeton, back to House, wasn't the biggest mistake of her life. No, she almost knew that leaving had been the biggest mistake, but this could wind up being the second biggest.

Author's note: http://users.med.auth.gr/karanik/english/vet/laser1.htm A friend of mine told me about the cool laser therapy one day when we were RPing.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still not mine, still just borrowing them.

Author's note: Kind of quick, just because I wanted to get a second one up today. The muse for this fic seems to be agreeing with me. Thank God for small miracles, eh?

After hugs were exchanged, Allison started to get a few things out of the backseat of her car, a silver Honda Element, a small bag and a small pet carrier.

"Oh no," House starts, holding his hands up to stop her, "That thing, what ever it is, is not coming in my house!" he says firmly.

"Oh, calm down, House. She's just a kitten. I'm not leaving her in the car, or the garage, so you're just going to have to deal with it," she says, smiling at him.

'_When did Cameron become so forceful?'_ he asks himself, blinking at her a few times, then sighing his defeat. "She better be trained to use a fucking litter box," he warns, then waits for her to go to the back to open the large fifth door, where several suitcases and two duffle bags are waiting for them.

"Are you sure you can pick them up? I don't want you in pain because you were helping me. Which, you know, the 'helping me' part is kind of weird to be saying about you too," she says, grinning at him.

"Har-har-har," he says, then grabs one suitcase, then slings a duffle bag over his shoulder. "There. See? I can still use the cane and do this if I have to," he says, then sticks his tongue out at her.

Allison can't help but chuckle and follow him in, her small bag over her shoulder with her purse, the pet carrier in one hand and a suitcase in another.

Fifteen minutes later and Allison is letting a small calico kitten from the pet carrier. She picks her up and shows her off to House.

"Greg House, meet Zita. Zita, meet Greg," she says, nuzzling the green-eyed feline lovingly.

"What happened to her tail?" he asks, poking the stumpy bit of tail.

"She's a Manx. Pure bred. And an expensive little fart at that," she says, rubbing the kitten's head, which is mostly white, save her left ear and half of her left eye. That is orange. Her nose is pink and eyes a vivid almost lime green. The backs of her hind legs have splotches on them. The left is orange and the right black, and a line of spots and splotches goes down the line of her back, some orange, some black. Her tail is the same way. Mostly orange with a black stripe just past where it joins with her body.

"How expensive?" he asks, reaching out to pet the kitten's head.

"Three fifty. She was worth it, though," she says, then perches the kitten on her shoulder, while Zita leans her head in to rub at House's hand, purring loudly.

"Damn. She's nearly as loud as my bike," he says, chuckling and heading to the kitchen. "You hungry? I was about to order some Chinese."

"Sounds great. Sweet and sour chicken, beef lo-mein and shrimp egg rolls. Oh, and egg drop soup!"

"Alright. Since it's your first night back I'll be nice and splurge," he says, and she moves to join him in the kitchen, letting Zita down.

"Don't get into trouble," she warns, giving a soft caress to the kitten's head before standing up and hopping up onto the counter as House rummages through various menus.

"So, how have the last few months been? Things have been so busy at the clinic and in Diagnostics I haven't have a chance to talk to you," he says, finding the right menu and looking over it, deciding what he wants.

"Um…not much has changed, really. I've got a few interviews here in Princeton in the next few days, I've got to look for an apartment…my divorce is getting finalized…" she says, moving an auburn streak of hair from her face to get an unobstructed look at House's face.

"Your…divorce? You got married?" he asks, looking more than confused. There were a lot of emotions going through his mind. Anger that he'd let her go in the first place. More anger that she'd moved on. Still more anger that during these three years he'd been the same bastard he'd always been. Jealousy for the man that got to spend time being married to her and anger that that man had fucked up to the point where she was getting a divorce. Then the unexpected feeling of sympathy for the whole ordeal.

"Yeah. It was doomed from the beginning, really. We'd only been dating six months and while he was an okay guy he just…well," she says, then sighs. "We never clicked the right way, you know?" she asks, her head tilted as she swings her denim covered legs.

He nods a bit, understanding a little bit. They'd clicked after she'd left. They'd become good friends. And now she was back…and he was fifty. Did she still like him like that? He couldn't help but wonder. The last week she'd taken up most of his thoughts. He knew she was coming back, so he'd offered to let her stay with him until she found a place. It would be nice to have company. Steve McQueen had died and Wilson's new marriage kept his friend busy most of the time. House was a bit jealous of everyone's happiness. It was his own fault he was still alone, though.

"Then I caught him in our bed with his secretary and that ended it. I found out in the first six months though, so I guess it could have been worse," she says, looking down at her sneaker covered feet.

"That sucks," he says bluntly, making her look up and then laugh.

"At least some things never change," she says, smiling at him, then leaning forward to kiss his cheek. "Order dinner. I'm starving and I need a shower. Do you mind?" she asks.

"No, feel free. The guest bathroom is across from your bedroom. Towels are under the sink. Dinner should be here when you get out."

"Thanks," she says, sliding off the counter top and grabbing Zita. She's halfway down the hall when she stops and turns around.

"Hey House?"

"Yeah?"

"It's good to be home," she says, smiling at him a few moments before going into the bedroom she's staying in to grab a change of clothes.

A ghost of a smile covers House's lips once she's out of sight. "It's good to have you home."


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: Still not mine._

_Author's Note: It seems like I always put one of these things up, though I'm not sure why. I don't really have anything to say except thanks for the kind reviews. They make me want to keep typing and get chapters and chapters and chapters out. By the way, I have a picture of the cat that Zita looks like. Just a random picture I found on the web, but I liked it and saved it for future reference. If anyone would like to see it, let me know and I'll e-mail it to you or something. I'm also looking for a picture of her tattoos. If I can't find one, then I'll make one._

_Also: I'm sick, so I don't know when chapter 4 will be up. Coughing sucks ass._

After Allison vanished into the bathroom for her shower, House found himself sitting on his couch, still looking at the menu. Their words, though his hadn't been said to her, were playing in his head over and over. She was glad to be home. Home in Princeton or home with him? He was scared shitless to get his hopes up, but found himself doing it anyway.

He finally decides on getting General Tso's chicken, pork fried rice, egg rolls and wonton soup. After ordering and getting the money needed to pay and tip the girl that delivered, House stretched himself out on his couch and found himself thinking about Allison. She was in his guest bathroom, naked as the day she was born.

House found himself letting out a groan and growing stiff in his pants. He'd thought about Allison a lot in this manner and he wasn't ashamed to admit it…at least not to himself. To anyone else, well, he still wouldn't be ashamed, because he never cared what anyone thought of him. He'd just probably never do it. And who could blame him, really, for thinking about the incredibly hot woman in his guest bathroom while getting off? No one, that's who.

He's about to unzip his pants to relieve the bulge that's growing by the second when his phone rings. Groaning in frustration, he picks it up. "This better be a goddamned life or death situation," he says gruffly.

"Nice to talk to you too," comes James Wilson's voice.

"Yeah, well, everyone loves me, it's expected," he says with a bit of snark. "So, whaddya need, Jimmy boy?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner. Jess---"

"Is trying to poison you and you want me to have to suffer with you. No thanks. Besides, I just ordered Chinese and I've got company."

"Really? That's surprising."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…it's just surprising to hear you have company that isn't Jess and me," he says, shrugging a bit, even though he knew his older friend couldn't see it.

"You're not going to ask who it is?"

"I hadn't planned on it, but I will now. Who is it?"

"Allison." The line goes silent, across town Wilson's face has become rather pale.

"Allison Cameron? That Allison?"

"Do I know any other Allison's?"

"I don't think so, no."

"Then there's your answer," he says, chuckling.

"She didn't say she was coming back," he says, making House perk an eyebrow.

"She said it to me. What's up with you, Wilson?"

"Me? Nothing's up with me. Perfectly fine over here."

"Uh huh. Even on the phone I can tell when you're lying. Fess up, Cancer-Man."

Wilson sighs as his shoulders slump and head shakes. "Alright, fine. You remember that conference in Vegas you weaseled your way out of almost two years ago?"

"Not really."

"Figures. Anyway, she was there. I wasn't married at that time. And she was going through a divorce. We uh…well, went at it like rabbits on speed the whole weekend, unless we were in a seminar or something," he admits, waiting for House to yell at him or just hang up. He does neither, though. He just has a look of shock on his face.

Wilson and Cameron? "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Really?"

"Yes, Greg."

"That…I…" House is shocked, obviously.

"I know. Trust me, I know. And then when she was leaving, she told me, "It was good seeing you again, James. Tell everyone I say hello.", and then she just got in her car and drove off. It was like nothing had happened at all. And she's got tattoos, Greg! Allison Cameron has tattoos!"

"No way! What are they and where?!" he asks, sitting up a bit more straight at the new information.

"She's got a star on each hip. It's about the size of a playing card, more or less. One black outline, then a smaller one inside it. I thought that was it until we went to the bar for drinks one night. There's more to it under a black light. It's this really awesome design that glows. It's really amazing," he says, a sort of longing in his voice.

"Hey, snap out of it. You've got Jessica, remember?"

"Huh? Damn. Right. Speaking of which, I gotta go tell her you're busy. Lemme know how the dinner date goes," he says, a grin in his voice and on his still rather boyish face.

"It's not a date!" House insists, a scowl on his face and in his voice.

"Uh huh. Sure. Bye Greg."

"Bye, Jimmy," he says, then they both hang up. House sits there a while, then sighs and groans, his left hand moving to scrub over his face. "It's not a date. Not yet, anyway."


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Do I have to keep doing this? Keep crushing my dreams of owning/loving House?! Do I?! I do? DAMN! Okay, well, he's not mine. None of them are. Except the cat…and only in my mind. Well, that cat, anyway. I have my own cats and dogs and fish and crabs. Yeah, I know, I'm ranting. I'm sick and hopped up on my normal meds PLUS cold meds. WHOOO! . ;_

Even though Allison was in House's guest bathroom, she found herself snooping through every cabinet and cupboard she could to see if she could find out anything. There was nothing female in the bathroom whatsoever, everything was male, all the way down to the Playboys under the sink. She chuckled at the dog-eared pages and put it back, not wanting to find out what pages may have semen stains or God knows what else.

After she lays out her shower things, she turns the water on, letting it warm before she gets in. She still couldn't believe House had a house. It was just…eerie. It did come in handy, though. Present case, for example. She had a place to stay while looking for her own place. If things went well enough between them, maybe they could split things, half and half, and she could stay here. That was a HUGE maybe, though. Enormous, even.

She lets herself smile before stepping into the shower.

Forty-five minutes later, Allison emerges from the guest bathroom; a cloud of steam that is infused with a rose's soft scent preceding and following her. Her hair and body are washed and she is dressed in a pair of super short, cotton, charcoal-colored shorts; the waistband trimmed in powder blue elastic and tie strings, and the left leg stamped with a seal of sorts, telling anyone who cares to look that she'd bought the shorts, and the matching camisole top, that she'd gotten it at Victoria's Secret. The neckline and arms of the camisole are lined in the same powder blue as the waistband of the shorts. Her damp, auburn hair is pulled up into a tight French twist, keeping it out of the way.

"So, when's the food getting here?" she asks, sitting down beside House, who's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets at her pajamas.

"Damn. When did you start wearing that kind of stuff?" he asks, taking in her scantly covered body.

"Um…since I moved to LA, I guess," she says, shrugging and grinning. "You like it?" she asks with a grin.

"Uh…yeah. Why couldn't you ever wear something like that to work?" he asks, then she laughs at him a bit.

"Well, one, these are pajamas. And two, I doubt I'd have gotten any work done and neither would anyone else, with you, Chase, Foreman and Wilson drooling at me, not to mention the patients," she tells him, grinning still. "So what about the food?"

As she asks that, the doorbell rings and House gets up. "That'd be it now."

After the food was paid for and spread out on the coffee table, both doctors dug in, and Zita running back and forth on the floor and the couch between her Mom and the new person, who she liked immensely.

From the kitten's point of view, the man was huge. So was her Mom, but that was okay. Mom was good to her, fed her, kept her safe and loved her. And this man…well, he was pretty awesome. He'd found a spot on her neck that made her purr and even drool a bit. He'd even held her at one point and offered her a piece of meat. She'd happily devoured it and even licked his finger clean.

He seemed to be particularly happy that she hadn't mistaken his fingers for food when she'd done that, and now that most of the food had been eaten, Zita was busying herself with licking the sauce from her Mom's beef lo-mien box while the humans watched her.

As she knocked the box over and really got into it, the box moved, causing her to let out a loud and obviously terrified mewl. Allison found herself laughing and so did House, but he was the one to pick up the box and the messy kitten inside it.

"You're a mess," he says, his head tilted as he rubs the spot on Zita's neck that makes her purr…only now she gives him a 'no shit!' look.

"Here. Gimmie the kitty. I'll go wash her off in the sink," Allison says, holding her hands out for her cat. House just looks at her, an eyebrow perked.

"I…don't think so. You get the food boxes, throw away what's empty and put the rest in the fridge. I'll wash the kitty," he says, making Allison's head tilt a bit.

"Who are you and what have you done with Gregory House?" she asks, her head tilting the other way as she gets closer to him.

"Funny. Very funny. You sat there and laughed. You get the dirty job," he says, standing up, rubbing his thigh a bit.

"Um…before you go wash her off, keep in mind that she does have very sharp claws and teeth. And she's never had a full blown bath before. I've washed her off with a damp rag a few times, but soap was never a factor." This makes House stop and look at the kitten that's still in the box, licking it and herself a bit, then back at Allison. He shrugs.

"How bad could it be?"

"I to--"

"Ah, ah, ah! Shut up!"

"This is your own fau--"

"Shut. Up."

Allison lets out a sigh and shakes her head. A small smirk rests on her lips as she rubs antibiotic ointment onto several claw marks along House's chest and arms. None of them are too deep, but there are an awful lot of them. Needless to say, Zita had freaked out when House put her under the running water. For almost three minutes, the time it took to soak the kitten's fur and get the sauce from the lo-mien off, she was okay. But then all hell had broken loose.

She'd clawed her way up his right arm, him trying to catch her and not hurt her at the same time, then darted inside his shirt and clawed her way around it, then came out at the bottom, only to latch onto his left arm.

He had been yelling the whole time, which only scared her further. Finally, Allison had gotten the towel intended to be used to dry the kitten off, thrown it over her and pried her off House's forearm.

"There," comes Allison's voice as she doctors the last wound on House's body from her kitten. "All done. By the way, nice abs," she says, taking the liberty to run her warm hands over the now toned skin.

"Yeah, well, push-ups work wonders when you can actually push up," he says, smirking and trying to ignore the goose bumps that had sprung up from the touch.

"So I see," she says, smiling at him. They sit like this for a few moments, the tension in the air obvious to both of them.

"_So the feelings are still there,"_ House thinks to himself, watching Allison as she watches him.

"_I was supposed to be over this. We're friends…just friends! When I stopped trying, that's when it happened!"_ Allison scolds herself. She wasn't supposed to still want House like this. She'd put all the 'what-if's' and 'could-be's' out of her head when she moved to California…or so she thought.

"House…" she starts, feeling suddenly as if she were back in high school. Her lips had started to move to say something, but she never got the chance, because House found himself leaning forward, his lips pressing tightly against hers.

Allison moans softly, in surprise but also in pleasure. Soon she finds herself leaning in to him more, one hand resting on his shoulder while the other rakes through his hair. Her mouth tilts to deepen the kiss and he follows her lead.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: Still not mine. Grr!_

_Author's Note: Before I do anything else at all I've got to send out a HUGE thank you to Fen and Lind. You guys are awesome. I knew I was missing something, I just didn't think I was over-thinking it. Lmao._

_I've also got to tell everyone how sorry I am for taking SO horribly long to update this. And I dunno when Chapter 6 will come, either, so, yeah. ._

_Now, about the story. So, I know that the last chapter ended on one hell of a cliffhanger. I just had to do it. On that note, this chapter has a VERY strong "M" rating. More like NC-17, but yeah. If you're not old enough or don't like this sort of thing then skip through the smut. _

_That is all. Enjoy the fic!_

When Allison finally found herself pulling away from the kiss she'd shared with House, two things struck her. One, it seemed like an eternity had passed and it still wasn't long enough. Two, it seemed like only mere moments had passed and she found her mouth very nearly watering for more of him. As she focuses on trying to breathe correctly, she realizes that House's chest is heaving just as much as hers. She also notices that his normally bright blue eyes are slightly darker and glazed over by the combination of: more than six years of pent up, unexpressed, mutual, sexual attraction between them.

"I never," she pants out, her breathing still hard and labored, "thought a simple kiss…would do so much…" she pants out, her tongue snaking out to lick her suddenly too dry lips. Seeing this action, House moans softly and leans in to lick them for her, his tongue rubbing against hers before sucking pulling the pair into his mouth. While this kiss is more of a tease and doesn't last as long as it's predecessor, but it's still just as intense, still just as wonderful. To prove this point, Allison finds herself moaning and moving herself closer to House. God, this felt so good! So damned good!

From the first shaky syllable that left Allison's lips, House's eyes are glued to her lips. He can't help but smile as she licks the taste of them, rewetting the pressure-reddened lips. "Me either," he murmurs huskily, his voice filled to flowing over with lust. This is what brings Allison back from her own mind. "I didn't think you'd still taste this sweet," he practically purrs to her, both of his hands moving to run through her hair, making her moan and lean into his hands. There are so many words left unspoken, so many things he wants to hash out, tell her, admit, fess up…but she's staying with him…and he's still a feisty old codger, so he'll just steal her keys and make sure she doesn't go anywhere. They'll talk later.

As if reading his mind, her body shifts and she finds herself sliding into his lap of her own will, her legs splaying, knees resting on either side of his hips. His hands glide from her scalp to her neck, shoulders, down her still slender back and finally to her hips, pulling her closer as their lips meet in another passionate, hungry, all-consuming kiss. His shirt is off, since she'd had to clean up the cat scratch wounds on his chest, so her hands have the freedom to run across his skin, her nails leaving gentle red furrows on his back as his hands slip under the hem of her camisole. He starts to push it up and she doesn't protest. In fact, she helps him, breaking their kiss only long enough to get the soft fabric over her head so he can toss it to the floor. "God, you're gorgeous," he whispers, his hands moving to her sides to pull her up on her knees as his head angles down to suck at her breasts, first one nipple, then the other, which causes her to moan and squirm in his grip.

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

House isn't a priest, or a monk, or anything even remotely celibate. But that doesn't mean he's picked anyone up and carried them to his room since his infarction, or since the laser therapy for that matter, but nonetheless, he's moving Allison's legs around his waist as they're sitting there and slowly pushes himself to the edge of the couch, then up. He lets out a grunt and squeezes his eyes closed, his hands grabbing her ass tightly.

"Greg? Put me down, I ---"

"No. Just be quiet and don't squirm. Bedroom's just down the hall," he says, hefting her up a little, causing her to squeal softly. She sighs and holds still, kissing and nibbling at his neck to preoccupy herself, hoping it'll help him too. Thankfully, for both of them, it doesn't take long and they're in the bedroom. Blue walls, blue blanket, white sheets, white windowsills, light wood furniture…Jimmy had helped him decorate. With a soft grunt, he tosses Allison onto the bed and smirks down at her, a dazed look on her face. He flexes a little, showing off just how muscular his abs and arms are, making her lick her lips. "Like somethin' you see?" he asks with a smirk, then toes off his shoes and socks before undoing his jeans and tossing them across the room, leaving him in a pair of dark blue boxers briefs.

"I'll say I do," she says with a smile, her body shivering at the sight (not to mention the thought) of his thick, erect manhood though the material of his underwear.

"Yeah? Good. That makes two of us," he says, then moves to her and rubs his hands over her hips, slowly pulling down the heather grey shorts of her sleep set, leaving her in a lacy, pale blue thong. Even at thirty-four she still looks hot. Really, incredibly hot. Not a day over thirty-one, really. Of course, he is rather biased, isn't he? Of course to her, he at fifty-one, still looks good. But really, he is. Sure, he's a little greyer, his widow's peak is a bit more predominate and he's got a few more wrinkles, but you try being a doctor and not being stressed! It's impossible! "Well, as nice as that looks on you…it's gotta go too," he says, hooking his thumbs under the lace at her hips and slowly pulling it down her legs, his body bend and lips pressing hot, wet kisses to her still taught stomach, down her surprisingly shaved pussy, thighs, calves, ankles…then slowly back up.

"Greg…ooh…mmm! Yes!" she gasps out, her body writhing on the sheets as his talented lips and hands tease her body, pausing at the hairless juncture between her thighs, his tongue and fingers delving into her depths. "Aaahh! Greg!" she gasps out, gripping his shoulders. He just keeps licking and sucking harder and harder, his fingers pumping into her deep channel, his wrist twisting so that two long digits can find her g-spot and rub it, telling her to 'come here' (extra emphasis on the 'come' part), but without making a sound. His tongue swipes from where his fingers are to her hardened bundle of nerves. "Ooh…oh Greg! You…uuuh! I'm gonna come! I'm so close!" she moans out, her hips rocking up and down, her body shivering and glistening with a thick sheen of sweat. He just keeps going, his cock trapped inside his boxer briefs. Allison's hand moves slowly, carefully, finally pulling apart the lycra/cotton blend of his boxer briefs, revealing his cock to her hungry gaze. It's gorgeous, glistening with pre-cum as it brushes against her thigh and making him groan into her cunt, pulsing with every beat of his heart. Just the feel and sight of it, hot and thick, pushes her that much closer to her orgasm.

"That's right, Allie. Let it come, baby. Fuck you're tight!" he grunts, rocking himself into her hand as she grips him and flicks her thumb over the head of his cock. He lets out a primal grunt and adds another finger into her tight channel and doubles the pressure and pace of his thumb on her clit. "Come for me, Allie," he breathes onto her hairless mound, his tongue licking under his fingers just as she screams out his name, her back arching hard off the bed as her juices rush out to his mouth, his fingers withdrawing so he can taste her. Spicy, a hint of sweet and a twang of tart. Perfect! He groans a little and lets his tongue fuck her like his cock will soon be doing, scooping out as much of her juices as he can. He leaves some, knowing he'll need the natural lubrication to fit his cock in her, and pulls back, smiling at her as he smacks his lips. "Mmm. So goo--oooff!" he suddenly grunts, the sweaty, trembling woman using a surge of strength to flip them.

"So fucking good," she whispers, licking his lips softly before kissing him deeply, passionately, her tongue shoving into his mouth so she can taste herself. Still shivering and breathing hard, she starts to kiss, nip, lick, and claw her way down his body. She lets her pussy rub against his cock, letting it get just a bit of her juices, as she lowers herself. Finally, she gets herself to her goal, her face planted right over his shimmering cock. "Oh, oh Allie, no…come on…" "That's right. We'll be doing a lot of coming, Greg. A lot of coming," she says, swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock, making his baby blues roll into the back of his head and his hands grip the sheets. "Uuunnnggghhh!" he groans as her mouth is suddenly full of half of his cock, making his teeth grit. "Allie…fuck yes! Please…" he groans, trying to grab any part of her to pull her up. Not that her mouth isn't heaven, but an even better heaven, one he's wasted so many years on not getting to, would be her pussy. That spicy-sweet pussy that matches her personality oh so well.

With a smirk on her lips, she pulls off his cock, a loud 'pop' echoing softly in the room. "Please what?" she asks, smiling. "Please….I want to fuck your brains out, now get that sweet ass of yours up here so I can do just that!" he says, reaching forward, grabbing her arms and pulling her up. She lets out a squeal, but soon his hands are on her hips and he's pulling her down and his hips are surging forward and she gasps, her back arching hard. "Oooh! Oh, Greg! Why…mmmm….did we wait so long?" she asks, her hips rocking hard, back and forth on his lap, making him groan as he starts to rock up into her. At this rate it wouldn't take either of them long to hit their peaks, especially not Allison, as she's already hit it once. "Because I'm an idiot," he says, his lips pressing hot, sweet kisses to her neck, shoulders, arms, lips, cheeks, chin, anywhere he can reach.

Allison knew it wouldn't take them long to reach their climaxes together, but as she rides him harder and faster and his talented fingers find her clit, her eyes pop open and she sees the most beautiful thing ever; Greg's coming with her. His lips are parted every so slightly, not even enough to get a breath though said lips, and his head has tilted back just the tiniest bit, making the dots of perspiration on his brow collect and run down a small rivulet down past his left temple, down past his cheek, through the maze of his scruff where it finally breaks off into several droplets and splashes onto her skin. She thinks to herself how amazing it is that she can notice all of this in a matter of two or three seconds. After that, the pleasure is too much and her eyes snap shut as she cries out his name.

Just as Allison's eyes are closing and she screams out his name, Greg's open and his intense blue eyes get to watch her fall apart in his arms, his hips still surging forward a bit as he empties himself into her, a hoarse cry of her name on his lips, and though it's softer she still hears it. He knows she can by the smile on her lips and the way her eyes crack open as they slow down. He gives a soft grunt as she curls on his chest, then wraps his arms around her, his breath hot on the crown of her head. "That was…so amazing," he pants, his breathing and words coming in short bursts. Her smile gets larger and she nods, her own panted breaths hitting against his chest. "I'll say," she agrees, kissing his chest softly and resting against him, both of them falling asleep.

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Half an hour later, Allison wakes up as she's gently rolled to the side, grunting softly as she feels Greg slide out of her. "Ssshhh," he soothes, kissing her forehead. "Go back to sleep. I just gotta drain my snake," he says, typical Greg. "Eeeww," she moans, and he snickers, then smiles as she tucks herself in to his pillow.

He smiles at her, takes care of himself in the bathroom, washes his hands and goes back to the bedroom, watching the woman sleep on his bed. "_What a fool I've been all these years. If I hadn't been such an ass, such a bitter old man we could have been happy. We might have even been able to have a family. Now that's a laugh! Me, Greg House, asshole supreme, wanting a family!"_ he thinks to himself, then has to chuckle out loud, though very softly. "_Still…the way she looked in that red dress…it made more than my groin pull. I wonder if she looked that good in her wedding dress? I wonder if she's got pictures and if she'd let me see?"_ he thinks, moving back to the bed and curling around her, pulling the covers over them.

"I wondered how long you were going to watch me," she says, smiling, but not opening her eyes, trading his pillow for his chest, kissing it softly. "As long as I want. You're living here, remember?" he asks, she smiles as he tilts her head up, her eyes finally opening as their lips meet, making her moan as his hand moves from her chin to run through the finally dry curls at the side of her face. "You know what I think?" she asks when they pull apart. "What's that?" "That it's good to be home," she says, her arms wrapping around his neck. He laughs and lets his hand wrap around her hips, rubbing the small of her back. "And just think, you just got here," he says, a devilish glint in his eyes.


End file.
